


Forming Bonds

by PenMelody (Skarmoree)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lance-centric, Slow Updates, That might change in later chapters, captured by galra, sorta klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10611315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skarmoree/pseuds/PenMelody
Summary: Lance and Keith would say that their teamwork was severely lacking."Was"They've been captured by the Galra and imprisoned, neither of them in good shape. This doesn't stop the Galra from forcing them into the arena. After all, a Paladin of Voltron should be strong enough to fight, right?Still, fighting side by side is a great way to become closer to each other. Who knew.





	1. Chapter 1

Lance did not wake as he normally did. 

For starters, he wasn't wearing his nightly face mask. His skin was clear of the green substance that would have hardened from a gooey sludge into a thin layer of rejuvenation as he slept. This was very concerning. How was he supposed to woo the human (and non-human) population if his pores were a breeding ground of harmful bacteria? He shuddered to think what pus-filled abominations would sprout on his pristine skin without his face mask.

Secondly, he wasn't wearing his fluffy pyjamas. The soft material of the simple pants and shirt allowed him to wake slowly in complete comfort. He usually woke with a relaxed body and mind, which helped him to keep his hyperactivity in check. He was usually pretty good at it. Sometimes. But the point was that he had woken up feeling tense and gritty, his clothing agitating his soft skin, and being much tighter than he remembered. 

Also, he didn't remember falling asleep in a prison cell. Maybe he should be more concerned by that.

Lance sat up, taking in the dirty walls of his small cell. There was a small cup of water by the solid metal bars, a plate of something green sitting just behind it. It smelled nothing like food goo, so Lance moved it to the side. 

As he moved about, vague memories of battle began to filter through the haze of what Lance guessed was a mild concussion. He saw explosions, and he remembered a scream. 

Keith had yelled his name as they had both been knocked out. They were on a supply run while the others worked on some castle repairs. The explosion had taken out the communicators. 

He needed to find Keith.

Gingerly he stood up, testing all of his muscles as he went. He was mostly okay, but he did remember Keith being hit by something before they were taken. He needed to find Keith.

Lance kept up his mental " _find Keith_ " mantra until he had managed to move to the front of the cell, where he could see down the hall. Most of the cells looked empty, but if he listened hard enough he could hear a gentle wheezing- the hurried breaths of an injured prisoner.

"Hello?" his voice was quieter than intended, but it did the job. A quiet gasp filled the silence.

"Lance... ugh" Keith answered softly, the effort quite obviously costing him a great deal of energy.

"Keith, thank god. How bad are you hurt?" Lance enquired, voice hushed and fearful. 

"M'fine." Keith grunted, there was a loud thud and a stream of rather colourful swear words that Lance was sure could make a sailor blush. 

"Obviously;" Lance said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Stop talking. Try to conserve your strength." 

Lance wasn't an idiot. He could tell that Keith was more injured than he let on. He couldn't help him from here, but he could at least try and keep his rival from killing himself through his own sacrificial stubbornness. 

There was a grunt from the neighbouring cell and Lance took that as Keith's acknowledgement of his words. 

Or it could have been an involuntary grunt of pain. You could never really tell with Keith. 

"Do you remember what happened?"

Silence, punctuated only by the soft pained wheezing of his teammate.

"Buddy?"

"You told me... nrgh... not to talk..." 

Lance smacked a hand to his head, then immediately regretted it as the action caused a wave of concussion-induced dizziness that left him gasping on the cold floor of his cell. He heard the strained voice of Keith calling out to him and he focused on calming his churning stomach as he attempted to stand again.

"I'm--" he was interrupted by another wave of nausea, forcing him back to his knees as he held himself on shaky hands. Wiping the dregs of vomit from his lips, Lance held the wall for support. Keith was still panicking, his breaths coming shorter and shorter. 

"Lance? What's happening?" Keith wheezed. Lance hurried to reply, concerned by his teammates shortness of breath.

"I'm fine;" he breathed out, moving as far away from the small puddle of sick as he could. How did Hunk deal with this?  "Concussion." 

"Good." 

Lance was confused for a moment at why it was good, before realising Keith meant it was good that he was okay. There was a rustle of fabric as Lance slid down the wall, and he remembered that he was unsure of what he was wearing. Trying not to worsen his headache, Lance looked down at himself to find he was wearing black.

His mind briefly entertained fantasies where he was a ninja, or perhaps he was Shiro now and he was leading Voltron. He didn't want to lead Voltron. It would cramp his style. 

Shaking his head, Lance looked down again, fully taking in the Galra prisoner garb he was clothed in.

"Usually, I would prefer a date _before_ someone undresses me." he deadpanned, and he heard a snort from the cell next to him. He smiled.

"They have good taste though;" Lance started, smirking as he heard Keith quickly muffle his laughter. "I look great in a crop top."

Lance decided at that moment that Keith had the most adorable laugh. It was gentle, broken up by the occasional snort or wheeze. Although the wheezing may not be normal now that he thought about it. 

If lance had been in better shape, he might have slapped the guard that interrupted the precious moment. But unfortunately, he was _not_ in better shape. He actually thought he was shaped rather like a scrambled egg right now. All mixed up and kind of gooey. 

He didn't like eggs that much. 

_"Get up!"_ The guard snapped. Lance fell to the floor. Later he would say it was an act of defiance, rather than a sudden wave of dizziness. If he remembered it at all in his disoriented state.

The guard did not take kindly to Lance's actions, as he was pulled roughly from the floor. Beside him, Keith was also pulled out of his cell and Lance was finally able to get a glimpse of his teammate before they were forced apart again. 

Keith didn't look good. He was pale- even for Keith! (How that boy managed to remain pale after spending a year in the desert, Lance would never know) There was also a bunch of mottled bruises covering what Lance could see of his face. And he was pretty sure that humans did not normally bleed from their fingers. It was like Keith had tried to dig out of his cell using his bare hands. 

But what concerned Lance most was that the injuries looked old- the blood caked over his hands was dried, the bruises already seeming faded.

... How long had Lance been out?

"L-Lance..." Keith groaned, weakly attempting to remove himself from the guard's tight hold as he was half-dragged, half-carried away.

_"Keith!"_ Lance gasped, also attempting to wiggle out of his captor's hold. His last thought before a hand was slapped to the back of his neck was that all this manhandling could not be good for his concussion.

Lance was determined that he would find Keith again. He wouldn't leave his teammate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's only semi-edited whoops. soz 'bout that I might fix it later if there's any glaringly obvious errors

Lance wasn't sure how long it had been. There was no light in his new cell, yet this one was somewhat of an improvement from his last holding location, mercifully free of his own vomit.

Although he wasn't sure how long he could keep it that way.

The food here could do with some improvement- or better yet, the food here could be something more than a flavourless mush. He sighed as another plate of the blue substance was pushed into his cell.

"Eat up prisoner, before I change my mind." 

Lance bent down and scooped up the disgusting excuse of a meal in his hands, muttering as he did so.

"One star, food is terrible, horrible service. Waiter could do with surgery to remove the stick from his ass." He grumbled.

He really ought to learn to keep his mouth shut. The food was actually terrible, but that didn't mean he didn't want it.

But he guessed mutinous comments were enough to have his meal forcefully taken from him. 

"Didn't provide food, refused refund. Zero out of ten, would not recommend." he said in the sassiest voice he could muster, and even made a half-hearted attempt at snapping his fingers. The guards never understood the references anyway.

God, Lance missed human interaction. 

Lance's stomach grumbled in protest as he watched the food be taken away. He knew that he needed food if he ever wanted to attempt escape from this place, but he couldn't help the words that slipped out.

But then again, he probably shouldn't have gone on a space adventure without properly packing all required equipment, first aid, and medicine first. And perhaps bedding, although he wasn't entirely sure it would fit in his backpack. He wasn't even entirely sure that he'd brought his backpack. 

Lance pondered this for a moment, trying to cast his mildly muddled mind back to the first day of their impromptu-anime-adventure without-required-materials-in-space

Did he bring his backpack?

He stared at the bar of his cell for a moment, trying to remember. He was ninety eight percent sure that he had one hundred percent forgotten. Lance shrugged.

Not much he could do about it now. 

The guard gave him a displeased growl, reminding Lance that he was still there; before exiting through a doorway that Lance had already noted the location of. He might be concussed, but he wasn't an idiot.

Well, he liked to think he wasn't.

His musings were interrupted by the slow grind of his cell being opened, and by a rough hand grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. Lance tried not to yelp.

"Ow, rude?" Lance said monotonously as he was dragged from the cell. The guard said nothing, merely continuing to drag him down the hallway, which was filled with other prisoners, although they were merely being guided. He was one of the few that they deemed worthy of a personal escort. 

Lance wasn't sure if he should feel insulted or not. Although he wasn't really sure that he had the proper brain functioning level to be sure of anything in this very moment. But he was pretty sure that being dragged was degrading. 

He shoved his feet into the floor, grounding himself and stopping his guard momentarily so he could take the time to balance on his own feet. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew where they were going.

And he would like to walk to the arena (and possibly his imminent death) himself, thanks. 

They were lead into a small holding area, where guards arranged them into an orderly line. He supposed this was the order that they would be fighting (read: dying) in.

Of course, Lance was at the front. 

"Ready, paladin?" One of the guards spat, as if the name of the universe's defenders was something nasty on his tongue. Lance was silent. What was there to be said? 

Also, he was a little late in realising that someone was talking to him, if he replied now, it would be weird. Why was he even thinking about this? He was being lead to his death, there was nothing left to do.

"You paladins were never going to beat us." the guard chuckled harshly. "You're too weak." 

Lance felt his fists clench, picturing the others. They might not be the world- wait, universe's- best, but they were doing all they could! How dare this good for nothing guard insult his space family!?

Before he'd even really considered what he was about to say, Lance was yelling.

"Says the guy who's here guarding defenceless prisoners instead of fighting the war!" he snapped, before immediately regretting his decision. It probably wasn't the best idea to snap at your captors when they had your very life in their hands. Something about surviving to see tomorrow, although he was probably gonna die before then anyway. But he had started now, and he would finish what he started. He was no coward.

"We don't even need all the paladins to take you down! For a slimy, pest of a species like yours? I'm sure half the team is enough to deal with you!" He shouted, bring his hands up into the universal sign for 'come at me bro!'. He heard a door creak open from behind him, but ignored it in favour of keeping his eyes on his captor. 

He expected to see anger, or perhaps to be hit across the face. What he didn't expect was an excited grin, a grin that showed all four of the guard's teeth. 

A mass was thrown at him, and quick hands snapped some sort of chain around his and the other person's wrist. The guard grabbed his face between his claws, and Lance winced slightly as dirty claws cut into his cheek.

"Prove it!" He hissed, turning Lance's face to whatever had been chained to him. 

Whatever it was, it was breathing, and also bleeding, and also had a mullet. 

He'd never seen Keith look so bad. He bent down, struggling a little at the awkwardness of the chain. His teammate's eyes were open, yet they didn't seem to see Lance. 

"Keith? buddy? Come on, I need you to look at me!" Lance said, a little panicked. What had they done to him?

To his relief, glassy eyes met his and held his stare for a moment. It looked like the simple task was like climbing a mountain to the red paladin. Lance reached out with his unchained right arm to steady him as he swayed. Keith was alive.

For now.

The arena gates opened, and a sword and some sort of staff were shoved into his chest as he and Keith were pushed out into the open. He caught Keith as he fell, clutching him awkwardly to his side in a rather odd looking sort-of-not-quite-hug. 

Something roared from the other side of the arena, and Lance pulled them behind a pillar.

He needed a plan, and he needed it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is literally a walking meme. I love him, honestly.
> 
> so what do we do to our favourites? Hurt them.   
> yay


	3. Chapter 3

Lance didn’t really get a chance to do any sort of planning. Even if he could have, with all the fog that still clouded his brain. Not to mention the very distracting sounds of a pained Keith that was quite literally chained to his side. He had hoped that their opponent would wait a little- size up its competitor for a few moments, or perhaps even take a second to decide which paladin would be easier to beat.

But Lance was unlucky.

Their opponent was onto them within seconds.

Thankfully, they were still sheltered behind the pillar, which was now being attacked by a rather scaly looking thing. The poor pillar had done nothing to deserve this. Lance did his best to protect Keith from the dust and debris that was raining down on them as the monster attempted to break down their poor equivalent of shelter, his teammate unable to do much but groan quietly in pain.

Lance was thankful that the monster didn’t seem smart enough to attempt walking around it. He decided to consider it a small miracle.

“Keith buddy, I need you to work with me.” Lance said, tapping gently at the other paladin’s face. Keith groaned, staring into Lance’s face for a moment, before seeming to take in his surroundings. Lance could almost see the adrenaline starting to kick in and sighed in relief. He couldn’t fight and protect Keith at the same time. Not in this situation.

“Here,” Lance said. He shoved the sword into Keith’s hand, who fumbled with it for a moment before gripping it firmly. Together they stood up, Keith leaning most of his weight on Lance. Lance lowered his stance to balance it out, getting a feel for the staff in his free hand. He frowned, staring at the chain over his right arm. Of course it had to be his dominant hand. He wondered for a moment if all this would make him ambidextrous.

If he survived.

Now wasn’t the time to think about it. The pillar was nearly at breaking point, hairline cracks trailing over the surface.

But once again, Lance was unlucky. Instead of breaking, the pillar began to fall like a downed tree, intent on squashing both of them. He didn’t feel sorry for it anymore.

“Keith, dodge left!” Lance commanded. Keith stumbled a little, but followed the orders. They threw themselves out of the danger zone, crashing into each other. Lance ended up whacking himself over the head with his staff, quite possibly worsening his condition. Seemed to be a recurring theme with him.

As the fight continued, Lance tried to follow Keith’s movements- seeing as he was the one with a weapon that he actually knew how to use. Why couldn’t the Galra give Lance a gun? They probably thought that was no fun. They wouldn’t see blood and carnage if he just shot them all with lasers.

So he tried to do what he could, using the long ill-suited staff that he carried to occasionally smack the creature in the face or bring it down on its head. He took pleasure in whispering ‘boop’ every time he did this, making the fight seem less scary. And if it made his mildly delirious teammate snort every so often at the ridiculousness of their situation, well, that was a bonus. Lance knew that none of the paladins fought well if they were scared. Over time, it had become Lance’s job to lighten the mood. Keep everyone smiling even during battle.

Not fighting to their best here meant dying. Dying here meant never eating another slice of pizza, and never enjoying one of Hunk’s hugs. He wouldn’t get to ruffle his tiny gremlin teammate’s hair. If he died here, he would never be on the receiving end of one of Allura’s sarcastic eye rolls, or Shiro’s looks of pride again. He would never be able to sit and talk to Coran- about everything and nothing, just to watch his moustache twitch with every smile.

He would never see his family again.

Lance decided he didn’t want to die just yet.

So Lance fought as hard as he could, compensating for Keith’s handicap as much as he could. He pulled Keith out of the line of fire when the monster attempted to tackle him. He did his best to fill all of the holes in their fighting, regardless of his ability. They needed to win.

They needed to survive.

As they fought, Lance’s arms and upper body began to hurt more. His left arm wasn’t used to holding a weapon, and the chain on his right wrist was beginning to leave some painful looking red marks every time the paladins were thrown against each other or pulled away as they dodged.

He took a moment to look down at Keith’s wrist, noticing the matching redness on his. Lance’s left arm shook from the strain of fighting, Keith’s right doing much the same. He suddenly remembered that Keith was left handed. Keith seemed to be fighting well enough with only his right, but considering his condition that wasn’t too hard. Lance also remembered seeing Keith training himself to be able to use both. He’d laughed whenever Keith had failed in doing so, but he wasn’t laughing at it now. Lance really wished that they had been chained the other way.

But he guessed that they were unlucky.

The monster roared and he quickly turned back to the fight. He wasn’t paying enough attention, and in the arena that could mean death.

He saw the monster coming at the last possible second, with no time to react. Keith made a last ditch attempt and swung his sword blindly out in front of them.

Keith was lucky. The sword cut across the monster’s eyes, causing it to fall back with a scream, throwing itself as far away as it could with its pained movements. It crashed into another pillar, still writhing and screeching.

Lance was unlucky. He dropped his staff and quickly held a hand to the bleeding cut just under his ribs that the monster had clawed into him as it started its retreat. It didn’t look too big, but it was still painful.

“L-la-nce…” Keith groaned, his grip loosening on his sword until it clattered to the ground next to him. He reached out his free hand to the other paladin, wincing at the strain. Lance grabbed it, squeezing it in an attempt to bite down the pain. The guard was beckoning them, the other prisoners staring at them in awe. The look on the Galra’s face was quite the opposite.

He realised with a start that he and Keith were supposed to have died against the creature, just the same as the other prisoners after them. But they had defied the odds and survived, throwing a spanner into the plans of the Galra. Nobody else would be fighting today. They had saved the other prisoners from certain death. Lance smirked through his pain, chuckling a little as Keith threw him a concerned glance.

He lived to be an inconvenience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, I'm @skarmoree on tumblr if you ever wanna talk/stalk/yell at me. I'd love for you to pay me a visit!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this was written on a camp w/ no internet, at like.... 6am  
> whoot

Lance grunted as he and Keith were shoved into the cold, mildly damp ground of a new cell. He was beginning to wonder how many cells one prisoner ship could hold. But then again it was called a prisoner ship for a reason. There was probably a huge number of cells on board.

He flinched as his wound jarred, staggering to hold not only his weight, but that of his teammate's. It would not do for them to fall too hardly, possibly furthering the severity of their injuries.

He was glad that he and Keith were put together. Although he supposed it would be hard to separate them when they were chained together. Lance gave his wrist a tentative tug, wincing as it rubbed against raw skin, and cursing loudly when the movement caused Keith to inhale sharply, once bleary eyes now focused as the pain brought him to his senses.

"Oh quiznak, sorry man." Lance panicked, removing his free hand from his side to steady the swaying paladin.

It came to Lance's attention that they were currently in a position that was eerily similar to that of their bonding moment, except reversed.

It also came to his attention that he may have said that thought out loud when Keith responded.

"Thought you said you didn't remember." Keith grunted, reaching his own hand out to put pressure on Lance's side. His touch was so weak, and his hands were cold.

He wasn't doing too well.

"Of course I remember Keith, we had a bonding moment man!" Lance said, chuckling slightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. The laughter caused him to wince in pain, the wound in his side reacting harshly with the movement.

Keith's eyebrows furrowed "But then why did you say...?"

Lance's chuckles died in his throat as he noticed the genuine hurt and confusion in Keith's eyes.

"It was a joke, Keith." Lance said, placing his own hand over the smaller one on top of his wound. He grimaced as some of his own red blood smeared over the hands of the red paladin.

"... Oh."

Lance winced again as he watched the confusion fade away to relief. Had Keith really thought...?

"Keith buddy, it was our bonding moment. I could never forget it, okay? I never meant to make you feel like I didn't... It was important to me Keith, I just want you to know that."

His mini heartfelt speech was met with a stunned silence. Keith's eyes showed racing thoughts as he attempted to piece together what had just happened.

"I—" Keith broke off into a coughing fit, curling up so he could hide it behind the crook of his elbow. His breath wheezed slightly once he recovered, but he forced himself to continue, trying to add more pressure to Lance's wound. "I didn't know you were joking, I thought you were..." This time, when he started coughing, he didn't bother to continue.

Again Lance winced at the pain that he had unintentionally caused his teammate. He reached out, hand on Keith's shoulder.

"I know, I'm sorry buddy, if I had—"

"It's not your fault," Keith interrupted, Lance startling at the barely heard sound. "I'm the one that... y'know..." he trailed off awkwardly, cheeks reddening just a little bit. Although Lance was unsure if the cause was embarrassment or fever.

Registering what he had actually said, Lance nodded in understanding. He moved his chained hand to rest it on Keith's other shoulder, but Keith's weighed him down, causing it to drop awkwardly onto the other paladin's knee. Lance stared at it for a minute, before remembering they were in the middle of a conversation.

"Oh- I uh..." he paused again, trying to reorder his words into a viable sentence. "I know man, and in the future, you can ask me these things. Okay?"

Lance was silent for a moment, staring at the wall of their cell.

"My sister, Isabella, was a bit like you." he said after a moment, absently rubbing soothing circles on Keith's knee with his thumb. "Couldn't hold a conversation to save her life, missed super obvious social cues, came off as broody, and was just all round socially incapable." Lance mused.

"I don't know if I'm meant to be insulted by that." Keith said, shifting his weight. "Was?"

"Yeah. She got better- asked questions, and we would try our best to answer them." Lance sighed, rubbing his free hand through his hair, then grimacing when he felt how gross and slimy it felt under his hand. He was also probably smearing blood through it.

"Point is, I got pretty good at answering questions for her, and I could do that for you as well... I- I mean, if you want to" Lance stuttered, voice trailing off with uncertainty.

It was silent for a moment, and Lance wondered if maybe he had gone too far. But he needn't have worried. Keith pressed down just a little harder on his wound, and Lance saw a small smile slip onto his face.

"Thanks."

"Anytime man, anytime."

It was silent again, but this time it was more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as it could get in a cramped cell.

"Come on..." Lance sighed, gently pushing Keith so he was laying on the floor. "Try and get some sleep."

Keith nodded, too tired to answer. However when Lance remained seated cross legged next to him, he looked up in concern.

"What about you?"

Lance gently tapped his temple, shrugging as he did so. "Concussion, probably not the best idea for me to sleep right now" he said.

Keith still looked concerned, but nodded anyway, letting his eyes flutter closed. Lance wasn't sure if it was doing more harm or good, letting Keith sleep.

Well, if he died, at least he would be out of here. Being captives of the Galra wasn't exactly a dream come true.

Although he would rather not be chained to a corpse.

Lance quickly grabbed for Keith's wrist, letting out a sigh of relief as he found his thready pulse.

They would survive here, they had to.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?" he yelped quietly, having thought Keith was asleep.

"Stop monologue-ing."

Lance felt his face flush red as he realised he had been saying his thoughts out loud.

"Sorry, man."

"And stop calling me man."

"Sorry—"

"And don't apologize."

"S—" he cut himself off, floundering for a moment. "Shut your quiznak."

Keith's weak laugh was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways, its cute


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this is so late  
> bleep blorp

"Move prisoner, you're blocking your own food"

Lance hurried to drag Keith out of the way, wincing a he felt the chain rub against his already raw skin. He'd tried slipping some cloth from his shirt between it, but it had just become caked with dried blood.

The guard slipped something into the cell, a single bowl of what Lance hesitated to call food. One star at best. 

Lance kept his thoughts to himself. He couldn't afford to upset the guards, not when others’ lives were in the balance as well.

The guard grinned wickedly at him, his terribly unhealthy teeth allowing Lance to recognise him as the Galra that had taken his portion before.

"Good,” he said “You are learning your place, Kudga."

Lance had no idea who Kudga was, but let the comment pass. It was probably an insult, akin to _bastard_ or something. Normally, Lance would have made some sassy remark, but he merely looked down at the disgusting ground of the cell, waiting for the guard to leave.

It was only after the creak and thump indicating the door closing that Lance dared to look up again, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw no sign of anything fluffy and purple.

His stomach growled but he ignored it, instead turning to wake up Keith.

"Buddy, you've gotta get up." He said, nudging him gently.

Keith groaned, attempting to roll in the opposite direction, only causing both of them to gasp in pain as the chain pulled taught between them.

"Sorry!" Keith hissed, grimacing as he rolled back towards Lance.

Lance helped him up into a sitting position, handing him the bowl of not-quite-goo-but-not-quite-solid substance. Keith took a few bites, cringing at the taste. 

"Gross, isn’t it?" Lance commented. Keith nodded in agreement, but he continued eating regardless.

Lance prayed to any god out there that his stomach wouldn't growl.

Keith needed the food more than he did. 

Keith swallowed his mouthful, and Lance saw that the action caused him a lot of pain. Or maybe it was the food itself that had made Keith wince.

"I know man, I know.” Lance said, “But you’ve gotta keep eating. You need your strength! They might throw us in the arena again."

Lance had probably jinxed himself with that last statement.

A guard flanked by two drones flung the cell door open, grinning down at them.

Lance stood as the guard stepped closer, pulling Keith up beside him. He tried hard not to pull the chain, and tapped his hand against Keith’s in an attempt to anchor him.

"Come, Kudga. You must fight again."

The guard was different to the last, and so Lance supposed that Kudga was supposed to be his name, or perhaps Keith's. 

Now that he thought about it, it was probably for the both of them collectively. 

Lance didn't mind the name. In a way it was comforting. Here, they were not Lance and Keith. They could be Kudga.

It would be Kudga that fought in the arena. It would be Kudga that took lives to save their own. It would be Kudga who would deal with whatever shit the Galra could throw at them.

It would be Kudga that protected Keith and Lance. It would be Kudga that stood between them, and the madness of captivity. It would be Kudga that keep Keith and Lance clean and unaffected by the torture of war.

He could accept being Kudga.

Lance blinked, swaying a tiny bit in place. Keith tapped his hand in much the same way as Lance did before, giving him a worrying stare.

Lance shook his head, horrified that he had accepted it so fast. Yes, they would be Kudga, but only in the arena.

Despite everything, Lance planned to come out the other end still himself.

And, he thought, staring back at his partner, with Keith alive.

 

Their fight today was no different to their fight yesterday.

They ran, they struggled, they almost died, and they pulled through.

However this time the guards seemed almost pleased, praising Kudga as they were lead from the arena, to a new cell.

Or at least, Lance thought it was a new cell. It didn’t seem like they were heading back to their old one. 

Keith accidentally tugged on the chain again, and Lance winced, reaching out to grab Keith's hand to stop him from moving it too far. It actually worked better than expected, stopping a little of the tugging sensation that caused the skin on his wrist to scream in agony. 

He would do anything to stop a little of the pain, even hold hands with Keith. 

The cell door was opened and Lance and Keith were shoved into the room. They fell awkwardly, their chain tangling around one of Lance's legs as they fell haphazardly to the floor. He didn’t know how that was possible, but it happened.

"So graceful." mocked the guard, slamming the door shut. The heavy metal caught Keith's foot in the process, and he let out a sharp breath between his teeth.

The hiss would have been amusing in any other situation, but Lance just grimaced in sympathy.

"Do you require assistance?"

They looked to the voice, heads whipping around to peer into the darkness of the cell. An alien that looked like a cross between a caterpillar and something else (although they weren't entirely sure what) stood there, wringing several pairs of hands together.

"Umm… yes?" Lance said slowly, holding Keith's hand just a little tighter as the alien came closer.

Gentle hands manoeuvred Lance's leg as the chain was pulled out from underneath them. Lance tried not to swear as one movement sent a jolt down his arm – a sentiment that was apparently shared by Keith who had hissed again. He was beginning to wonder if Keith was part cat. 

"Who are you?" Lance asked, after manoeuvring both himself and the still recovering Keith into more comfortable sitting positions. 

"Jlav." The alien supplied, giving no more information as he moved back into the cell, eyes still trained on the two as he did so.

In the gloom, a small group of other aliens sat, cowering by the back wall. Jlav scampered behind two other aliens, peering out from between them back at Keith and Lance.

Lance looked to Keith, who stared back at him in a brief moment of complete clarity. 

The other prisoners feared them. 

That hurt more than anything the Galra could put them through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment please! It's great to hear feedback from readers~!
> 
> > @skarmoree and @penmelody on tumblr, come yell at us!

**Author's Note:**

> whooo boi that summary does not set the mood. Rip me.
> 
> validate me! Kudos and comments are my lifeblood!


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